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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27152506">Where This Flower Blooms</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sajere1/pseuds/pechee'>pechee (sajere1)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Assassin's Creed - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aftercare, Background Relationships, Dom/sub Undertones, Idiots in Love, M/M, Sex Pollen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 22:49:41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,754</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27152506</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sajere1/pseuds/pechee</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Shaun’s face, if possible, gets redder. “…yes,” he says eventually. “It’s a tool to…make humans…want to submit. In a specific way.” He looks up at the ceiling. “A very specific way.”</p>
<p>There is another long pause. Rebecca, who has had the most training in translating the nineteen layers of bullshit Shaun has going at any given moment, catches on first. She snorts before she can cover it up, hand flying to her mouth. “Oh my god,” she says, in something almost like a shriek as she draws a breath in. “It’s a <i>BDSM flower?”</i></p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Shaun Hastings/Desmond Miles</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>117</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Where This Flower Blooms</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>While this fic goes pretty far out of the way to establish in no uncertain terms that both parties are consenting, sex pollen as a trope has a certain amount of dubious consent inherent to it, and there is passing mention of more malicious ways it could be used. Please take care of yourself when reading.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Well,” Shaun says, “the good news is I figured out how to make the flower work.”</p>
<p>Across the room, Rebecca heaves an overexaggerated sigh, intentionally refusing to look at Shaun as she analyzes data rapid-fire behind the computer. Galina – whose forearm has been newly re-bandaged – has no such compunction. When she catches Desmond’s eye, she offers him a conspiratorial grin. “And the bad news?” she prompts in her heavy Russian accent.</p>
<p>Shaun, whose face is very red for someone who is supposed to be doing normal magic artifact observation, clears his throat sheepishly. “Er. The bad news is, I figured out how to make it work by accidentally activating it.” He shifts in place. “…on myself.”</p>
<p>The room promptly explodes.</p>
<p>“Come on, Shaun,” Rebecca is saying, “we spent all that fucking effort to be safe while we grabbed it, you jackass” – Galina has crossed the room in an instant and gotten all up in Shaun’s face, gripping his chin and forcibly looking over him for damage as she keeps up a steady stream of what is either a lecture or cursing, incomprehensible over the sound of Rebecca’s complaining – and Desmond – </p>
<p>Desmond looks down at his hands, which went still with worry when Shaun walked in, halfway through dutifully re-assembling the medical kit, and tries to shove down the awful, greedy feeling that makes him tremble when Shaun lets Galina grab him.</p>
<p>It’s been two months since Desmond’s triumphant (read: chaotic and confused) return. In that time, he hasn’t quite decided how he feels about Galina. It’s…petty. It’s really petty. And it’s not Galina’s fault she happened to be the agent assigned to Desmond’s two remaining friends in the world when he got back. It’s definitely not Galina’s fault that the last thing Desmond had resembling a romantic relationship ended with his blade in his not-girlfriend’s stomach.</p>
<p>But. When she and Shaun are in the same room. It’s not exactly hard to see – from the way they move around each other, from the way she takes his face in hand while she talks like she has a right to it. That they’re…you know. Close.</p>
<p>It’s Desmond’s problem, and he’ll get over it. How much of it is yearning for a relationship that he never got to fully mourn, and how much of it is some weird protective instinct for his friends – he doesn’t know. But he’ll be fine. Galina’s cool, she and Rebecca share cat memes over lunch, she works hard to include him, and she obviously gives a shit. He can keep it on the downlow.</p>
<p>He just. Has to work at it, sometimes.</p>
<p>By the time Desmond’s nasty bout of irritation has passed, Shaun has grown tired of being manhandled. He swats Galina’s hand away. “It’s fine, stop overreacting – I said it’s <i>fine,</i> Rebecca,” he snaps to where Rebecca has started booting up the drone to bring Bishop in on the conversation. “We were going to have to test it on someone to figure out its purpose eventually, if anything this just saves time on paperwork. I’m not hurt, it's alright.”</p>
<p>Rebecca’s expression is the closest thing to a physical personification of doubt that Desmond’s ever seen. “We don’t know what it can do to you, Shaun,” she says, “just because it isn’t hurting you now doesn’t mean it doesn’t have long-term effects, Jesus – “</p>
<p>“Did you find out what it does?” Desmond asks, propping his chin in his hand.</p>
<p>Shaun’s eyes dart over at the sound of his voice – and then, instantly, back to his feet, flushing further. For a moment, he just rotates his jaw, like he’s giving a silent speech in his head. “…yes,” he finally says, after the longest minute ever.</p>
<p>Desmond’s eyes narrow. Work has always been a surefire way to make Shaun start talking, and he’s never refused to look at Desmond like this before, not even when actively insulting every ancestor in his lineage. The worry is definitely back. “Shaun,” he says, a tone of warning in his voice.</p>
<p>Shaun glares at him, briefly, which is a relief. Still healthy enough to hate being fussed over, then. He doesn’t say anything, though, and the silence stretches until Galina clears her throat. “Shaun, you have to actually tell us what it does,” she points out. “Unless you are testing whether it gives you telepathic abilities, in which case I can confirm for you that I am not hearing anything in my head.”</p>
<p>Shaun makes a noise like he’s wounded. “It’s a…tool,” he says carefully, eyes darting around, like he’s nervous or something. “That. The Inu used. To…well. You know. To, er, subjugate all the humans and such.”</p>
<p>Desmond glances over just to make sure, and yep, Rebecca is completely lost too. “…okay?” she prompts. “So it, what, makes humans submit?”</p>
<p>Shaun’s face, if possible, gets redder. “…yes,” he says eventually. “It’s a tool to…make humans…want to submit. In a specific way.” He looks up at the ceiling. “A very specific way.”</p>
<p>There is another long pause. Rebecca, who has had the most training in translating the nineteen layers of bullshit Shaun has going at any given moment, catches on first. She snorts before she can cover it up, hand flying to her mouth. “Oh my god,” she says, in something almost like a shriek as she draws a breath in. “It’s a <i>BDSM flower?”</i></p>
<p>“Yes, yes, it’s all very funny,” Shaun snaps, but it is inaudible over the full-blown howling that is released from Rebecca’s lungs. Desmond manages to hide his own snicker under the sound of it, ducking his head when Shaun scowls at him. Rebecca is inconsolable, leaned back in her chair and laughing uproariously. When it finally subsides into giggles, Galina nods wisely and puts her hand on Shaun’s shoulder. “Ah, I see,” she says seriously. “The flower has made you horny, yes?” And Rebecca starts right back up again.</p>
<p> It takes another few minutes for everything to calm back down again as Galina solemnly commits to her helpful friend shtick, a twinkle in her eye when she gives Rebecca a sideways glance over it. “What’s even the point of something like that?” Desmond asks, crossing the room to pass Rebecca a water bottle. She takes it gratefully, wiping the tears from her eyes. “Why would a piece of Eden do…that?”</p>
<p>“Well, could be several reasons, yeah?” Now that the actual explanation is out of the way, most of Shaun’s discomfort has faded back to the raw, familiar irritation of having to handle his friends. “I mean, no ethical reasons. It’s an inherently immoral artifact. But – could be to incite a Pavlovian response, make it easier to control humans without needing the Pieces all the time. Could be for Inu to have a…willing partner.” He makes a face at his own implications. “Christ alive. This – we absolutely cannot let this one fall into the wrong hands. The ways it could be used are…”</p>
<p>A cold chill crosses everyone in the room simultaneously at the implication. “We will be careful,” Galina says after a moment, shaking off the furrow of her brow. “Even more than usual, I think.” She glances over wryly. “Though you do not seem to be…ah, compromised?”</p>
<p>“Ew, wait, did you jerk off in the back room? Gross.” Rebecca makes a face. “At least we know it’s easy to solve, I guess.”</p>
<p>“Er.“ Desmond notices before either of the girls when the flush creeps back up Shaun’s neck. He’s wringing his hands, scuffing his toe into the carpet. “Not as such. I mean – I did. Try.” He coughs. “But. Erm. It didn’t. Help. That is to say. Hmm.”</p>
<p>“Worse,” Rebecca says.</p>
<p>“What do you mean?” Desmond says. Shaun makes a strangled sort of noise like he’s been personally harmed. “I mean – if it didn’t fix it. Does it just need, like, time? Is it gonna get worse?”</p>
<p>“Well, I dunno, Desmond, let me just check real fast, I’m sure WebMD will know all the details about the magic artifact we know nothing about,” Shaun snarls. Desmond leans back. “I don’t know, alright? It got easier when I – you know. But it didn’t fix it, obviously.”</p>
<p>Rebecca puts her hand up before either Galina or Desmond can speak. “Do not give details.” They share a guilty, curious look at the unspoken question they’d both been thinking. Rebecca huffs out a breath and twirls in her seat, twiddling a stylus between her fingers. “I mean, it can’t be a permanent thing, right? If there’s an on switch there’s gotta be an off switch. This is, like, priority one. Can you work still, man?”</p>
<p><i>“No,”</i> Shaun says emphatically. “If I was capable of focusing enough to find a solution on my own without having this conversation, rest assured, I would’ve.”</p>
<p>Rebecca sighs. “Galina, skip training tonight – see if you can crack this flower. I’ll take care of cleaning and testing the weaponry. Des, you’re still on guard. Shaun…just, like, try to keep it down, man.”</p>
<p>Galina cheerfully claps Shaun on the arm as she passes. “Chin up,” she says as he buries his face in his hands. “You can practice your stamina.”</p>
<p>“Galina!” Shaun hisses. She winks at him. Rebecca’s laughter follows her out of the room.</p>
<p>Desmond turns back to the medical tools so that no one can see that he isn’t smiling.</p><hr/>
<p>So. Here’s the thing.</p>
<p>Of course Desmond gives a shit about Pieces of Eden, right? The last three months of his life (pre-resurrection) were bent on the damn things. He had a coma. His single claim to fame is that literally a thousand years of history were entirely devoted to him, personally, finding the Apple. He’s basically the Piece of Eden Guy. The Guy of Eden. Like…biblical Adam. But better at mixing martinis. So of course, now that he kinda knows what the flower does, he can’t stop thinking about it. Of course he’s focused on it.</p>
<p>It’s just a complicated focus, because it involves…you know. Shaun. Shaun, in sexual situations. Shaun, whose sexual situation with Galina has been previously established to make Desmond feel a kind of angry nausea that is not conducive to a productive guard shift.</p>
<p>Or, alternatively, Shaun in a sexual situation without Galina. Which is…a different kind of weird.</p>
<p>Not that Desmond’s – he’s cool with himself, you know? He knows what he likes. Usually it’s girls, but sometimes it’s guys, and he’s not, like, torn up about it. He had that revelation, he’s cool, he’s moved on. But this isn’t some guy in a back room with a fake name. This is Shaun. Shaun, who actually fucking cried when he saw Desmond again, and wouldn’t stop hugging him for a good ten minutes, and even now sometimes looks over at him like he’s scared Desmond is just gonna poof into smoke – this, from a man who usually can’t express emotion without eighteen snarky comments to cushion it. Shaun, who is an actual field agent who gets in the way of bullets and shit now, who Desmond almost had a heart attack over when he realized the man was on an honest-to-god mission. Shaun who is Desmond’s <i>friend.</i> Even if Shaun didn’t have an objectively awesome Russian girlfriend for Desmond to not get between – he’s <i>Shaun.</i></p>
<p>But it’s a Piece of Eden, so he can’t stop fucking thinking about it. Wondering if Shaun has given up on trying to get himself through it or not. It’s been hours since he retreated to the safety of his room, and not a peep has come out the door. Surely Shaun isn’t quiet during sex, the man can barely be quiet when his literal life depends on it. Did he fall asleep? Or is he biting the back of his hand while he touches himself, trying to keep his little desperate noises muffled? Or is he trying to ignore it, focusing on something else as best he can until his hand accidentally brushes his own thigh or a stray thought hits him and he has to shudder and collect himself, keep from rubbing up against the mattress because it feels so fucking good –</p>
<p>It’s Shaun. It’s Shaun it’s Shaun it’s Shaun it’s Shaun, it’s Shaun so Desmond can’t. It’s too weird. It’s too…Shaun.</p>
<p>He’s damn lucky that guard duty is mostly a formality out here in the boonies, because Desmond is pretty sure that Viddic could come back to life with a gun trained on him and he would still be totally clueless. He’s had to remind himself he’s supposed to be paying attention three times. It’s not quite cold out – they’re somewhere in the middle of fuck-off Russia, so it’s always <i>cold,</i> but it’s not so cold as to be unbearable. They’re making temporary home in a warehouse, waiting for word that it’s safe to transport the Piece of Eden across country lines. It’s almost nostalgic.</p>
<p>He’s just shaken himself out of another guilty not-daydream when he hears footsteps approaching. He does a quick peripheral check with Eagle Vision – blue – lifts a hand so that the person approaching him knows he’s seen them. Rebecca sits gracelessly on the stoop next to him. It’s not exactly a hiding spot, but the only two entrances and exits to the building are on the same side, so there’s no point in moving too far away. Maybe if guard duty were anything more than a formality right now, he’d be more worried.</p>
<p>“Bishop’s been brought up to speed,” Rebecca says in place of her customary ‘sup.’ Desmond nods and doesn’t look at her. He doesn’t need to.</p>
<p>Shaun – after the emotional upheaval of Desmond’s initial return – is still comfortingly Shaun, still an asshole who talks around his feelings and wears sweatervests and talks about history like everyone should care. But Rebecca. Rebecca has been something new since the moment Desmond saw her again. Not unrecognizable – she still taunts Shaun, still calls Desmond her bro, still coos at every dog she sees, still makes idle plans about ‘hitting the slopes someday soon.’ But there’s something else to her, now. It reminds Desmond of his dad, a little – the parts of his dad that he hates the least. The responsible parts. </p>
<p>Desmond can’t take away the bags under Rebecca’s eyes. But he can be the bright spot that she was for him, back when he was under the animus 24/7. “I’ve been trying to figure out,” he says in lieu of answering her, “whether Shaun is getting off thinking about books from the Library of Alexandria or Leonardo’s notebook. What’s the bet?”</p>
<p>Rebecca laughs. The sound of that, at least, hasn’t changed – just as free as it’s always been. “I mean, I think you nailed it,” she says, her tone just a little easier. “God, this is like, super mean, but like. This is so fucking funny. I mean, I’d never say that to him but holy shit. A fuck flower?” She puts a hand to her mouth in a loose effort to hide her giggles. “Like, what?”</p>
<p>Desmond grins at her, propping his chin in his hand. “It’s like he has the world’s stupidest allergy.”</p>
<p>“Right!” Rebecca shakes her head. “God. I mean, rough for him, but <i>god.</i>” She shakes her head again, still smiling, bangs falling in her eyes where they’ve come loose under her beanie. “Galina’s made a little bit of progress. We think it’s not permanent, but. We don’t know how long it’ll last.”</p>
<p>Desmond opens his mouth – closes it. Part of him wants to say, <i>they should just fuck and see if that helps.</i> But that would involve acknowledging out loud that Shaun and Galina are together. And…he doesn’t know. They are, they obviously are, but it’s not something that’s been said out loud, and like – maybe he isn’t supposed to know, or maybe it’s supposed to be a secret. As long as he hasn’t said anything about it, it’s like it’s not quite real.</p>
<p>Luckily, Rebecca doesn’t seem to notice – just leans back to rest on her elbows and closes her eyes. “We do have a way to end it sooner, maybe,” she says. Her voice has just a tint of hesitancy in it now, which is so out of place for Rebecca that it makes Desmond actually turn and stare at her. “It’s, uh. Hmm.” She grimaces. “Okay, like, it’s not bad, but I don’t want to walk in on him and he like – he could have his dick out, man. I don’t want to see Shaun’s dick. It’s probably, I don’t know, I’ll probably go blind.”</p>
<p>Desmond sighs. “You came out here to make me ask Shaun about it for you.”</p>
<p>“Pleeeease?” Rebecca bats her eyelashes at him, which hasn’t worked since they met and never will. “You have a dick, as far as I know, you can probably see it and just like. I don’t know, no homo your way out of it. And we gotta know whether he thinks he can work through waiting it out or if we need to do the, uh, the other thing.”</p>
<p>Desmond’s eyes narrow. “And what’s the other thing?” Rebecca doesn’t say anything for a moment. “Beccs.”</p>
<p>“…well,” Rebecca says finally, avoiding his gaze. “She thinks maybe, because the flower, you know, is supposed to be there for humans to have sex with the Isu…maybe it’ll end if he, you know…has sex with an Isu. Or someone with, uh. With a lot of Isu genes.” Her eyes dart back and forth. “You know, like, uh…”</p>
<p>Desmond’s voice comes out dead, his heart in his stomach. “Like Galina,” he fills in, doing his best to look straight ahead and not betray the weird mental cocktail of his stomach.</p>
<p>Rebecca stares at him. She continues to stare so long that he finally scowls and says, “What?”</p>
<p>“Des,” Rebecca says.</p>
<p>“What.”</p>
<p>“You were a bartender,” Rebecca says. “You have to have <i>some</i> gaydar.”</p>
<p>“I – “ Desmond’s brain screeches to a halt. Several things fall into place at once. “…Becca,” he says. “Are you fucking Galina?”</p>
<p>“I’m sure trying to, dude.” Rebecca flops fully backward, her gaze heavily amused. “She’s not down yet because her last girlfriend was a bitch and she’s <i>wounded</i> and she doesn’t want to <i>hurt</i> me.” Then, matter-of-fact, “I’m going to eat her out until she screams. You have been warned.”</p>
<p>“Rebecca,” Desmond says, but it’s hard to sound chastising when he’s choking on a laugh. “Oh my god.”</p>
<p>She grins widely at him. He coughs into his hand, trying to clear his throat and mind. “So – not Galina.” Desmond frowns. “But then, who would be - ?”</p>
<p>Desmond didn’t think it was possible for Rebecca to grow any more exasperated than she already was. “Des,” she says, like she’s talking to a baby. “<i>You</i> could fuck him.”</p>
<p>“I could – “ Desmond’s whole being reels up. <i>“I couldn’t fuck Shaun?!”</i></p>
<p>Rebecca makes a noise of disbelief in the back of her throat. “Well, why not?”</p>
<p>“Because I – he – “ Desmond staggers for a moment, hands flailing as he searches for some way to say because it’s Shaun without actually saying that. “He’s straight!”</p>
<p>“Bro. We just established, I know gay people, you don’t. Shaun would be down to fuck.”</p>
<p>“I – he would not!” Desmond’s mouth works soundlessly for a moment. He wouldn’t! He wouldn’t. Shaun wouldn’t – Shaun doesn’t fuck. Or if he does he wouldn’t fuck Desmond. Desmond is – Desmond annoys him, and they’re – they’re friends, they have a witty repartee, that’s not the same as, as flirting. “Shaun would not want to – with me.”</p>
<p>“You don’t have to.” Rebecca looks a little apologetic, which calms Desmond down. He can’t – this isn’t a thing. He can be calm about this. “Sorry, man, I didn’t know it would bother you this much. If you’re not down, you’re not down, it’s chill, we’ll see if we can find another solution.”</p>
<p>“Yes.” Good. Yes. Perfect. This is what he wants. “It doesn’t bother me,” he adds, unnecessarily.</p>
<p>Rebecca snorts. “Mm-hmm.” After a moment, she says, “You’ll still ask him, though, right? This isn’t some weird thing where the idea of Shaun’s dick makes you sick, too? We can’t all be allergic to it.”</p>
<p>Desmond’s mouth is very dry when he thinks of walking in on Shaun with his dick out. He swallows. “I’ll ask him,” he says. “In case we – find another solution.” He stands, uncertain and wobbly, like he’s coming out of Ezio’s head for the first time in a day, but it’s just him in here, him and some weird seductive mental version of Shaun who jacks off while Desmond watches across the room and says, <i>you could fuck me,</i> in that way his voice gets high pitched and spluttery when he’s nervous, licking his lips –</p>
<p>Nope. It’s Shaun. It’s Shaun it’s Shaun nope nope it’s Shaun.</p>
<p>“You good to take over watch?” Desmond says, firmly pushing seduction-Shaun to the back of his mind where he belongs.</p>
<p>Rebecca looks out and the miles of barren plain between them and another human being. “Think I got it under control,” she says. “Good luck, champ.”</p><hr/>
<p>At minute 4 of standing outside Shaun’s door, Desmond thinks, <i>this is stupid.</i></p>
<p>It’s been stupid all along, of course. Every single minute of it has been stupid. What is he even waiting for, right? There’s still no fucking noise coming from inside the room. Either Shaun’s not jacking off right now or he’s being quiet enough about it that Desmond can’t hear – and he’s grateful for it, he is – and either way he’ll hear Desmond knock and cover up anything indecent before he replies, so what the fuck is Desmond waiting for?</p>
<p>It’s Rebecca’s fault, he decides. It’s Rebecca’s stupid fucking fault, because she put this – idea in his head, of fucking Shaun through it or whatever, and now he’s overthinking. Just two guys being bros. Just two bros being dudes. Nothing weird. Everything cool.</p>
<p>At minute 8, Desmond finally brings himself to knock on the door.</p>
<p>There’s a moment of silence where Desmond absolutely tortures himself before Shaun calls, “Come in,” voice a kind of half-hearted croak through the door. Desmond reminds himself that he will not make this weird, opens the door, takes a step in, and turns to –</p>
<p>He stops fully in the doorway.</p>
<p>Shaun is – he’s naked. A blanket is covering the important bits, shins sticking out where his legs are loosely crossed, blinking blearily. He doesn’t even have his glasses on – and that’s such a stupid thing but it gets Desmond so much, the way Shaun looks without frames, smaller and more vulnerable. His hair is rucked up the way it used to be when Desmond met him, not the gelled look he prefers nowadays, and that has Desmond thinking things, about Shaun fisting his own hair as he touches himself.</p>
<p>“Uh,” Desmond stutters. “You’re – clothes.”</p>
<p>Shaun gives him a look that would be withering, but without the glasses, it’s just sort of squinty and adorable. “Hello to you, too, Desmond,” he says, wry. There’s a bit of quaver to his voice. He’s obviously determined to ignore it. Desmond’s stupid assassin perception is in overdrive – watching a bead of sweat trail down Shaun’s jaw, noting the tremble in his hands, the way his pupils ring just a little wider than usual. The thin blonde hair along his arms, thicker on his legs. The way his flush highlights freckles on his shoulders Desmond hadn’t known were there, before this. “Arousal increases body temperature. Grow up.”</p>
<p>“Uh – “ Oh, god, Desmond’s staring. Why is Desmond staring. He clears his throat and shuts the door with his foot. “Right. You – glasses.” Desmond shakes his head. “Sorry, I wasn’t expecting…”</p>
<p>Shaun rolls his eyes, worrying the blanket between his fingers. “Well, I don’t really need them right now, do I?” he snaps. “Not like I need to see the details of my own dick.”</p>
<p>Oh god. Shaun’s dick is out. The blanket is the only thing covering Shaun’s dick, probably. There is exactly one layer between him and Shaun’s dick right now. There’s normally two layers – okay, actually, Desmond doesn’t know that for certain, maybe Shaun goes commando sometimes. But that’s one layer of pants, not one layer of blanket, it’s different, if Shaun moves the blanket Desmond will see his dick.</p>
<p>Desmond attempts to speak, but all that comes out is a faint, high-pitched, panicky sort of noise.</p>
<p>Shaun gives him one more derisive look before he sighs, leaning back to sprawl over the mattress. And oh – that’s worse, that’s way worse, because now he’s lying down and Desmond can follow the pudge of his stomach, the line of his arms extended over his head, the thicker hair under his armpit, the graceless arch of his back. It’s so – it’s so nothing, there’s no sensuality or presentation to it at all, it’s not a model or even someone who knows how to use their body to their advantage, really. It’s just Shaun, simple and real. It’s Shaun. “What do you need, Desmond,” he says with a tone half-defeated, letting his eyes flutter shut.</p>
<p>Desmond swallows. His mouth is dry. Stupid fucking Rebecca. “Galina’s been studying the flower,” he says – and then, blurts out, “Dude, did you know Galina’s a lesbian? I thought you two were fucking until like, ten minutes ago.”</p>
<p>Shaun jolts at that – not sitting up, just craning his neck so that Desmond can see his look of utter disbelief. “Wh – you thought – me - ?”</p>
<p>“Rebecca had to tell me!” Thank God, Desmond thinks, co-worker gossip. “What the fuck, man. Did you know? I could’ve sworn – ”</p>
<p>“Yes, I knew, Desmond, she’s my friend, my god.” Shaun lets his head fall back onto the pillow. “That’s – good Christ, there’s so much wrong with that – Desmond.” He snorts – pulls his fist down to cover his mouth, can’t help himself from erupting into a full-blown laugh. “Oh, Jesus. You thought I was interested in Galina? She would eat me. Terrifying.”</p>
<p>“Some people like that.” Christ, if Desmond thought Shaun was distracting naked and done with his shit, Shaun naked and laughing, muscles of his stomach jumping as he tries to restrain himself, is near torture. “She’s been looking at the flower. Apparently, it’s gonna just, like, run out at some point. Don’t know when, though.”</p>
<p>Shaun groans, which is extremely unhelpful. “At least there’s an end in sight,” he mutters, letting his arm drop back to his side.</p>
<p>Desmond hesitates. “There’s also, uh, an alternate solution, she thinks,” he says, after a moment. “At least one. But it’s – I mean, you know, you’ve got a fuck flower, so it involves fucking, so like. If you’re not down to fuck, there’s no pressure. But if there’s one solution, there might be others, so. Hope on the horizon, if you don’t want to wait it out.”</p>
<p>Shaun frowns, cracks an eye open at him where it had fallen closed. “…what, I would have to have sex with someone?” he clarifies.</p>
<p>“Yeah. Galina – which is why I figured out you weren’t dating, because I was like, well, obviously that won’t be a problem, and then Rebecca made fun of me. Because of her Isu genes, and stuff.” Desmond pauses. “Or – “ his voice falters. “Or me.”</p>
<p>The room falls into a long moment of silence.</p>
<p>Shaun sits up in bed.</p>
<p>“You and me?” Shaun says, and his voice has that hoarse tone back again. He’s been red-faced the whole conversation, despite himself, but now it seems even more stark, fragile and nervous in how he curls in on himself. “You would – “ His voice falters. “You want to - ?”</p>
<p><i>I didn’t say that,</i> Desmond wants to say, because he told Rebecca no and it’s Shaun and he can’t, he can just laugh this off as a misunderstanding and they can move on. But it’s – when he opens his mouth, no words come out. He can’t quite bring himself to meet Shaun’s eyes – instead he looks at the floor, where the blanket swings down the side of the bed and brushes over the tile. “We don’t have to,” he says, instead of answering, because if he doesn’t say it out loud it isn’t real. “We can wait it out. So there’s no pressure. If you don’t. Yeah. So.”</p>
<p>The silence ticks on a few more moments. Desmond is steeling himself to crack a joke and bolt when Shaun says, in a voice like he’s pained, “Desmond,” and then, “Come here.”</p>
<p>When Desmond looks up, Shaun has moved, has started to pull a leg out from under the blankets, and that’s – Desmond’s there in a second, one knee up on the bed, hovering uncertain. Shaun’s breath is fast and uncertain, but the arousal that’s been there all along is blooming to the surface now, heart racing in the background of Desmond’s freak magic hearing, eyes glassy. He touches the side of Desmond’s arm and Desmond follows, willingly.</p>
<p>Their mouths touch when Desmond’s brain goes on red alert, screams <i>IT’S SHAUN IT’S SHAUN IT’S SHAUN</i> at top volume, and he realizes what’s happening.</p>
<p>His muscles go tense and still. Shaun’s hand is only brushing against him, but he pulls back the moment Desmond freezes up. For a moment Desmond thinks that’s going to be it, they’re going to call it as a failed experiment and chalk it up to some flower nonsense, but then –</p>
<p>Desmond doesn’t quite know how it happens, how Shaun manages to maneuver them around so fast, but one moment Desmond is hovering over his mouth and the next he’s sitting on the edge of the bed, legs firmly on the floor. Shaun is straddling him, fully naked in his lap, and he takes Desmond’s face between his hands and kisses him.</p>
<p>Desmond is helpless to do anything but respond to the tongue flicking against his teeth, to instinctively reach up and cradle Shaun’s torso. At the touch of Desmond’s hands to his hips Shaun groans, arches into the grip, and suddenly Desmond is overwhelmed by skin and touch and Shaun and how very, very hard he is. “Oh fuck,” Desmond gasps when Shaun finally pulls him away, framing his face with two solid hands. “Shaun, I don’t – I don’t know what – “</p>
<p>“It’s okay.” Shaun grinds down and Desmond has to grit his teeth to keep quiet. Shaun is breathless, gorgeous above him, rocking against his stomach, and it’s Shaun and Desmond wants to fuck him so bad. “I want it, I want it so bad, please, fucking – “</p>
<p>“I haven’t – “ Desmond struggles. “I don’t know if – after this – “</p>
<p>Shaun seems to realize what he’s trying to say, kisses him, deep and hard. “It’s okay,” he breathes, eyes squeezed shut, pressing his forehead to Desmond’s. “It’s okay. It’s okay if you won’t want me later. Just want me now. Please. Just want me now.”</p>
<p>It’s a line that strikes Desmond to his core, because Desmond has learned to read Shaun with all walls up, it’s nothing to see through him all open and vulnerable like this. Every syllable of it is condensed with longing, resigned and desperate, because – and Desmond feels like an idiot now for missing it all this time – because Shaun <i>wants,</i> mouth slanted over Desmond’s mouth, making desperate little sounds from the back of his throat. And even worse: Shaun’s in pain. This stupid fucking flower is hurting him, Shaun is <i>hurt,</i> and Desmond’s grip goes tight and protective at the rushing instinct to protect him from it.</p>
<p>“I do,” Desmond breathes, weighty and trembling with the admission it is. He finally brings himself to look down. Shaun’s fully hard, smearing precum on his own stomach with every little writhe in Desmond’s lap, dick pink with how long he’s been dealing with it. Desmond runs a finger up the side of it and Shaun gasps, hips jerking away and forward all at once, oversensitive from how long he’s been touching himself already. “Shh,” Desmond whispers, dipping his thumb against the tip of it, so Shaun squeezes his eyes closed and whines. “It’s okay. I’m going to help.”</p>
<p>Shaun nods, but doesn’t open his eyes – just lets Desmond run his hands soothingly over his body, carefully avoiding the places red with oversensitivity. When he runs his hand up Shaun’s ribs, Shaun’s skin is burning, hotter than humans are supposed to. But it’s only when his hand tangles in Shaun’s hair – when he tries to tug the hand out and accidentally yanks, and before he can apologize Shaun moans, obscene – that he remembers.</p>
<p>The flower doesn’t just make Shaun aroused. It makes him want to submit.</p>
<p>Desmond sucks in a breath – tugs on Shaun’s hair again, so he arches his neck back, gasps. “You don’t have to worry,” he says. His voice doesn’t even sound like his own, an octave lower and distant. “I’m gonna take care of you.” He nips at Shaun’s collarbone, reveling in the way it makes him cry out. “You’re going to cum,” Desmond breathes against his skin. “Because I’m going to tell you to. And you’re going to do what I tell you, aren’t you?”</p>
<p>Shaun is an absolute mess in his arms – he’s broad-shouldered, not petite at all, but he still feels fragile, shaking like he’s barely held together. He opens his mouth like he wants to say something but no sound comes out, just shakily pulls Desmond into another kiss. And fuck – Desmond had figured Shaun would be talkative, but this is even better. Shaun so overwhelmed and needy that he can’t even make words anymore, that he’s just a ball of sensation. Desmond kisses him, possessive, and Shaun falls into it, like he’s trying to meld his entire body into Desmond’s.</p>
<p>Desmond has to press his forehead to Shaun’s shoulder for a moment to catch his breath. “I,” he starts, and then licks his lips. “I don’t know if there’s anything specific we have to do,” he confesses breathlessly. “To get it out of your system. I don’t know if you need me to…” He hesitates, letting a hand ghost down to Shaun’s ass, squeeze lightly. “We don’t have condoms, and…”</p>
<p>It’s an excellent sign that Shaun is still capable of looking annoyed with him. He takes a steadying breath to himself as he gathers his brain together, fingers tightening on the back of Desmond’s shirt where he hasn’t let go. “There’s not actually anything, anything inherently submissive about, <i>ah,</i> anal sex,” he manages. He can’t quite help himself from grinding against Desmond’s stomach, pulling back to get away from the overstimulation but pushing in again, unable to stop. “We just live in a – a phallocentric, <i>hnng,</i> society, that, is obsessed with, penetration, as an act of power, to justify – m-misogyny by presenting the penetrator as more act-<i>ive,</i> and rests on – on cis and he-TER-onormativi<i>ty</i> - <i>oh,</i>” He presses his mouth to Desmond’s shoulder through his shirt. “Oh, <i>fuck, </i>Desmond,” he breathes, when Desmond’s hand squeezes his ass. “Please.”</p>
<p>“I can’t believe you just said ‘heteronormativity’ while we’re fucking,” Desmond says.</p>
<p>“If you ever listened,” Shaun pants, “when we weren’t fucking, I wouldn’t have to, you prat.”</p>
<p>Desmond smiles into Shaun’s neck, laving one more sloppy kiss on the column of his throat before he pulls back. “If it doesn’t work, we ask Galina what exactly we need to do. Deal?”</p>
<p>“Deal, now <i>touch me,”</i> Shaun gasps, grinding down in Desmond’s lap.</p>
<p>Desmond stills him with a squeeze on his hips – and that’s thrilling, that at the slightest touch Shaun has following wherever he leads. Desmond presses a thumb to Shaun’s lower lip, pink and wet and a little swollen. “No,” he breathes. “No, that’s not what you get. I know what you need, and that’s not it, is it?” Desmond leans in to kiss him, pulls back along his jaw, traces the shell of Shaun’s ear with his tongue as Shaun shivers in his grip. Desmond is following raw instinct, doing what the assassin genes in him tell him to do, and he is praying they are close enough to what the Isu actually did to account for it.</p>
<p>“You don’t need me to touch you,” Desmond breathes. “I’m going to tell you what’s going to happen. You’re going to get down on your knees. You’re going to suck my dick. And you are going to cum, just from that.” Shaun’s eyes are glazed, his hands tight on Desmond’s neck, and Desmond can’t help but kiss him, quick and filthy. “You’re going to get off on my dick in your mouth, like a filthy fucking slut.”</p>
<p>Desmond doesn’t even have to tug on him – by the time he’s finished the sentence, Shaun is on the floor between his legs, hands shaking as he reaches for Desmond’s zipper. He’s got it halfway down before Desmond yanks him back by his hair, Shaun gasping as he teeters unsteadily, hands landing on Desmond’s thighs for balance. “So eager,” Desmond says, tone just a bit mocking. “Did I say you could touch me yet?”</p>
<p>Shaun shakes his head. He’s so instantly responsive, so eager to please, so the opposite of everything Shaun normally is, and it’s fucking doing it for Desmond. “You aren’t going to move at all,” Desmond breathes. He keeps one hand in Shaun’s hair, the other thumbing open his jeans, slowly, so Shaun’s eyes follow the movement. “You’re just going to open your fucking mouth.”</p>
<p>And Shaun <i>does</i> – as Desmond pulls his dick out, careful to disrupt his jeans as little as possible, to keep this wild world where Shaun is sprawled out nude and Desmond isn’t even going to take his pants off – opens his mouth, looking up at Desmond with big eager eyes. Desmond trails his dick over Shaun’s lower lip. “Stick out your tongue,” Desmond breathes, and Shaun responds instantly, lets Desmond tap the head of his cock against it, feel the heat of his breath.</p>
<p>Desmond doesn’t quite fuck Shaun’s mouth, because he doesn’t actually touch any part of him. What he does instead is a rough imitation – shallowly thrusting just past the open <i>o</i> of his lips, jacking himself off slowly. When Shaun starts to close his mouth around it Desmond moves from holding his hair to holding his jaw open, a pair of fingers in to keep his mouth spread wide as Desmond uses him. He lets his dick slip down over Shaun’s tongue as he pulls back, moaning at the way Shaun just takes it, just keeps looking at him with those big glassy eyes, the way his breath is hot and fast against the head of Desmond’s dick.</p>
<p>“Whore,” Desmond breathes. Shaun’s breath hitches as he pulls all the way back out – he doesn’t pull his fingers back yet, just reaches up to trail a thumb down Shaun’s tongue, following the path his dick just took. “You’re drooling for it,” he says, because Shaun <i>is,</i> with his mouth held open he can’t swallow, a thin sling of saliva stretching from Shaun’s lip to Desmond’s thumb. Before he even realizes what he’s doing, he smears Shaun’s drool across his own chin, hissing, “Fucking <i>filthy.”</i></p>
<p>It’s such an objectively gross thing, and the moment he realizes he’s done it Desmond is about to make a horrified apology, but before he can Shaun’s hips thrust with the motion, shutting his eyes for the first time since they started. And god, maybe it’s gross, but Shaun wants it, and what Shaun wants he gets, so Desmond gathers up the precum and saliva on his dick and smears it over Shaun’s forehead, into his hair as he reaches up to grasp and yank him forward.</p>
<p>And the <i>noise</i> Shaun makes, the way he looks with a thick globule of Desmond's precum dripping down his nose, how he’s too sticky to open his eyes all the way and how he can’t help himself but to grind against Desmond’s fucking shoe because it’s getting him off but he hasn’t moved his hands because Desmond hasn’t told him he can touch himself and he’s doing what he’s told –</p>
<p>“Suck me off,” Desmond says hoarsely, and Shaun needs no further prompting. He takes Desmond’s dick in his mouth like he was fucking born to do it, purposefully wet and messy, letting spit dribble down over the length of him as he makes one long lick down the top. He mouths the head of it, tongues the foreskin, and takes Desmond in so deep that he chokes. And the fucking <i>sounds</i> he’s making, thick, slobbery noises –</p>
<p>“Fuck,” Desmond gasps, nearly doubled over with the force of the blowjob he’s receiving, and Shaun moans around his dick, like it’s really, actually getting him off, just to make Desmond lose it. “Good boy,” Desmond breathes, and Shaun whines, stretches his mouth wide around Desmond’s dick, bobbing his head with loud slurps.</p>
<p>Shaun manages a surprised gasp when Desmond yanks him back – too hard, Desmond’s too turned on to be in control. “God,” Desmond gasps, stripping his cock, “gonna cum on your fucking face – gonna fucking ruin you, gonna make a mess of you, <i>fuck.</i>” Shaun whines, tips his head back, and opens his mouth, just like before, but this time with his face messy and fucked. Desmond groans. “Fuck, Shaun, you’re such a whore – mine, gonna make you mine, gonna get you dirty so anyone can take one look at you and <i>know</i>, that you have someone to fuck you good and hard like you need, I know what you need, take it, fucking <i>take it.”</i></p>
<p>The moment Desmond’s cum hits Shaun’s face - white dripping down his eyebrows, over his cheekbone, mixing with the saliva on his tongue and down his chin - it’s like his whole body goes loose. He gasps – flushed, face absolutely ruined, beautiful – thrusts against Desmond’s shoe one more time, and cums, just from blowing Desmond and grinding off against his leg, like a fucking dog.</p>
<p>It takes a moment for Desmond to realize the enormity of the fact that Shaun actually came. He tugs Shaun back up into his arms – pulls off his shirt, because they don’t need the illusion of the power imbalance now, and because Shaun’s face is really gross. He’s pliant as Desmond moves him this way and that, wipes his face as clean as he can with a t-shirt. There’s not much to be done about Shaun’s hair until he feels up to taking a shower, but Desmond can at least get his actual face fluid-free. He’s shaking, still – the orgasm after nearly a full day of being on edge must have been overwhelming. Desmond takes care to press gentle kisses over his face as he cleans it, to press soothing circles into the small of Shaun’s back with one hand.</p>
<p>When he starts to move away, Shaun’s grip goes abruptly tight. Desmond backs off immediately, settling back into place. “’Sokay,” he murmurs, moving his gentle hand up to Shaun’s cheek, to trace it with his thumb. “Just gotta wipe my shoe off. I’ll lie down in just a sec.” Shaun makes another noise, this one vaguely assenting, and lets Desmond pry him off, lay him gently on the pillow. He watches with bleary eyes as Desmond tugs off his shoes and socks. He reaches for his pants – pauses, glances over to meet Shaun’s eyes. “I should, uh. Tell the others that you're better.” His voice is almost guilty.</p>
<p>The haze has finally started to clear, enough that Shaun can roll his eyes. “Well, go tell them, then,” he says, his voice hoarse and half-broken.</p>
<p>“I’ll be back,” Desmond says, reaching out to touch Shaun’s hand, maybe unnecessarily.</p>
<p>Shaun considers this for a moment. He flips his hand to squeeze Desmond’s fingers. Their palms are gross and sweaty, but Desmond clings to it for a moment. “Good,” Shaun whispers.</p>
<p>Desmond really doesn’t want to have a conversation about this right now, so he makes the executive decision to just not. Instead, he ducks his head in every room until he finds the one that Galina is in, call in, “Hey, Shaun and I fucked and he’s good now, we’re gonna cuddle, tell Rebecca, don't bother us for a bit, thanks byeeee” and then darts away before she can do more than yell <i>“WHAT”</i> in return. A conversational hit-and-run.</p>
<p>Shaun is watching the door when he returns, but doesn’t say anything – just watches Desmond shuck his jeans and boxers, opening his arm for Desmond to rejoin him in bed. His eyes are uncertain, and Desmond knows what he’s thinking – about how he looked at Desmond earlier, and how Desmond isn’t sure about things, and how they fucked anyway, and where do they go from here.</p>
<p>And maybe up until this exact second Desmond wasn’t sure either, but seeing the way Shaun is tearing himself up seals it. Desmond slides one leg over him on the bed and reaches down to kiss him – not sexy, not full of intent. Sweet and soft. Shaun goes still for a moment before he reciprocates, tugging Desmond onto the bed fully, and they stay there for a few minutes, just trading lazy kisses, slowly learning how to smile against each other’s mouths without bumping noses.</p>
<p>“Hey,” Desmond says, breathless, when he finally extracts himself long enough to wiggle under the covers. Shaun makes a noise like he’s annoyed Desmond isn’t kissing him right now, but Desmond is grinning, because he came to a realization. “I have magic cum.”</p>
<p>Shaun stares at him for a moment before he flops over with a tragic moan. “God, I can’t believe I had sex with you.”</p>
<p>“Now you’re stuck with me!” Desmond snuggles up against Shaun’s chest, voice sing-song.</p>
<p>Shaun goes silent for a moment before he carefully turns back over to face him, to look into Desmond’s eyes where he’s propped himself on Shaun’s arm. Then he smiles. “Good,” he says. Then, "I didn't take you as the kind of guy who's super dominant."</p>
<p>"Worked at a sex bar once. As a bartender, but I picked up a couple things. We don't have to do it like that again."</p>
<p>Shaun makes a noise in the back of his throat. "I didn't say that."</p>
<p>Desmond smiles, reaches up to trace Shaun's cheek again. Because it's - it's Shaun, and he's looking at Desmond with that kind of half-infuriated, half-bemused look that he gets when Desmond is doing something really fucking stupid. He's happy, and he's in bed, and they're next to each other, and he's Shaun.</p>
<p>"Rebecca is going to be infuriating," Desmond says. Shaun laughs and kisses him.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>title from the tyler the creator song. sometimes you go 'i'm not going to do the obvious thing and make it a flower,' you look into things that have historical symbolism for sexuality, and it just so happens that most of the good historical symbols for sexuality...are flowers. that's just how it is on this bitch of an earth</p>
<p>i love shaundes and i won't shut up about them, follow my regular tumblr @pechebeche to see me yell abt them and my nsfw tumblr @demisexualriz for the Spicy Content TM</p></blockquote></div></div>
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